So Here’s the Lowdown on Granada: For Erasmus students and humble tourists alike

Taking a sidestep from my usual accounts of all things in the life of Chloë on a Year Abroad, here I’m going to denote the important things to know about Granada. After living here for 10 months (frightening), I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp on the city and all its ins and outs.

I’m also led to believe that because my title has the words ‘Granada’ and ‘Erasmus’ in, it could very well come up on a Google search of those keywords, so if you’re here because you’re not my mum or Grandma and you really do want to know about Granada, welcome!! Hopefully this post might offer you some insight, for both students and tourists who want to know more about this beautiful city.

Hellooo

Granada, the city 

Every time I leave Granada for another city, whether it be Valencia, Sevilla, Barcelona, I always find my way back happier than ever that I chose Granada for my year abroad. It’s not too big and not too small; I can walk everywhere in almost 15 minutes, and my gosh, it is beautiful.

The three main areas of Granada are ‘Centro‘, ‘Albaycin‘ and the ‘Realejo‘. There’s also the Plaza de Toros, but that’s really a subsection of Centro. The Centro is pretty much what it says in the name – the centre of Granada. Here you’ll find shops (lots of shops), restaurants and many, many people. The main road Reyes Catolicas runs into Calle Recogidas where you’ll come across the staples of Granada: Zara, Pull and Bear, H+M, Stradivarius, Kiko, Mango and of course Sephora. Off the joining point of the two streets is a road leading to El Corte Ingles, Spain’s famous department store. Don’t make the same mistake I did and trot off down there asking where the plates are to be told this one is strictly clothes and makeup.

The homewear El Corte is down off Camino de Ronda, which is also where I did my weekly food shop (more on this later).

Reyes Catolicas

The Albaicyn and Realejo are Granada’s older quarters. Though the whole city has beautiful architecture, here’s where most of the older influences are more obvious. The Albaicyn has clear Moorish influences, where you’ll find most of the Flamenco performances, beautiful hiking opportunities and a club which overlooks the Alhambra palace (El Camborio). The palace itself is up in the Albaicyn, along with beautiful Miradors (San Nicolas and San Miguel Alto) offering stunning views of the Alhambra, particularly at night. It is possible to get to the Alhambra on foot, but you might prefer using a hop-on-hop-off city train (8€ for the day) or the C1/C2/C3 bus which leaves from Plaza Isabel la Catolica (at the end of Gran Via, top of Reyes Catolicas, entrance to the Realejo, below Plaza Nueva –  a pretty central Plaza).

Plaza Isabel la Catolica

At Plaza Nueva (you could call it the gateway to the Albaicyn) you’ll find wonderful tetarias offering authentic Moroccan cuisine, tea and shisha pipes. All the teterias are pretty much the same and are a great place to just go and chill out if you’re not in the mood for shots with every other Erasmus student. Here’s where you’ll also find the Hammam Arabic Baths, which are an even better way to relax (especially in winter) where you can get a soothing soak and an amazing massage for the student price of 25€. Top Tip: go early morning or during siesta, as it tends to get busy in the evenings.

Plaza Nueva – central meeting point for Erasmus students early on.

The Realejo is the old Jewish quarter, with two Sephardi museums buried with history. Today, you’ll find some lovely restaurants up here both expensive and cheaper, because this is a common Erasmus haunt as it is where the Centro de Lenguas Modernas is located (more on CLM later). Up in the Realejo there is a wonderful Mexican called Ranchito Mexicano, a great English restaurant – Casa Lopez – where they serve a roast dinner every Sunday (book in advance) and Carmela which overlooks Plaza Isabel and is a fine dining experience.  There’s also Pad Thai Wok (or PTW, as we lovingly called it) which should be your go-to noodle joint.

Where to Live

Many apologies to the tourists out there, this is probably not useful to you. Though when my parents visited they stayed in the NH Victoria on Calle Recogidas, which is a gorgeous hotel in a perfect location. Maybe I am useful.

For students, Granada is your oyster. Whether you choose to find a flat before you come, look for one on Facebook, or turn up with only a hostel booked and a palm full of flyers found on lampposts, you will find a flat. I found mine on Idealista.com (actually, Emily’s buddy found it for us) and it ended up being in the most ideal location. Other websites to find flats include EasyPiso and also ThirdYearAbroad.com is good for advice. My street was directly connected to Calle Recogidas and just walking along it I came out at Zara. I also had a number of supermarkets, fruit markets and bars of my choosing, was close to the bus stop and within 15 minutes walk to the park.

Real life image of my apartment building. pssh.

If I could recommend one thing, I would definitely say choose location wisely. It is far more important than the apartment itself. I personally think I live in a bit of a dump and I haven’t spoken to anyone in my flat since Emily and Cherelle left for China in February, but I am in the best location and have no regrets. Some people prefer to live in the Plaza de Toros (apparently there’s lots of bars around here, but I’ve not experienced any) and then you can walk to Cartuja campus. However, my preference was to live right in the Centro and get the bus to uni. This way I was right in the centre (the name gives that away) and in the middle of the more important things. Studying is only 40% of your year: shopping, eating and socialising is 60% and this is more easily accessible from Centro. I would advise this, but it’s something you’ll need to think about carefully.

As a resident, I felt incredibly safe walking around Granada alone from day to night. I never felt threatened or unsafe, especially if I walked with purpose. I carried an emergency alarm for security but really walking alone was never an issue. Maybe after a night out at 5/6am it would be advisable to walk with a friend, but at 10/11/12 at night, the city is still alive enough for you to feel safe.

University

I studied at Cartuja campus in the Facultad de Filosofia y Letras, so I can really only discuss that here. However some general advice would be to pick subjects and modules that you will enjoy rather than those that you think will help your Spanish. I took some language and linguistics modules in first semester that I grew to hate and in no way did they help my Spanish.

Filosofia y Letras. And yes, it is this beautiful in summer.

Organisation is, as standard in Spain, lacking. The International Office opens from 9am-2pm every day, and you’ll get what you need eventually, but it may take a few trips and attempts. In terms of the office staff, if you’re lucky you’ll get a helpful worker who will cater to your needs, and if you’re unlucky you’ll be shoved out the door. Hope for the guy in the back right hand corner.

You have to organise your timetable yourself by looking at the Horarios (Timetable) on the faculty website and put it together, then submit it to the IO. There’s enough time at the start of term to change things around if you change your mind about modules, though this does mean you’ll have missed a few weeks of class of whatever you change to. In my opinion, whether you’re in my position and your exam results count, or whether you’re in the lucky majority that doesn’t even need to pass the year, it’s better to just decide beforehand and stick to your guns. Chances are you won’t really enjoy many of the classes, since the education system is, for lack of a better word, flawed.

Each class is worth 6 ETCS and meets for 2 hours, twice a week. It’s tough, especially as an Arts student coming from 8-10 contact hours per week, but this does mean that you’re pretty much spoon-fed what you need for the exams.

The best advice in terms of studying would be to take a Language class at the Centro de Lenguas Modernas (CLM). The class you’d be looking for is called CELE and also counts for 6 ETCS. They do cost a significant amount (150€ or 375€) depending on your level and meet for 3 hours, twice a week, so they can be tricky to schedule. To determine your level you will be required to take a fairly simple level test at the start of the semester, and after first semester you get automatically moved up to the next level. These will be the most important classes during your year, so do anything possible to arrange your Faculty classes around them. For me, it was the only class I felt truly comfortable in and where I felt my Spanish was improving. It’s also quite easy to do well in them, getting lower than a 2.1 is rare (whereas this is rather common in Faculty classes). The CLM classes also finish about 3/4 weeks before term ends so you have significant time to revise for your Faculty exams as well.

CLM building

As I said before, studying is only 40% of the year and I learnt the hard way not to stress myself out about results and exams that would eventually have little repercussions on my year. Do what makes you happy and try not get too overwhelmed by the university.

Tourism

Though not as big as Madrid, Barcelona or Sevilla, and certainly less well known, Granada has its value as a prime tourist location. Trust me, once it got to May and the weather warmed up, it became nearly impossible to walk up Calle Recogidas without playing my favourite game of ‘Spot the Tourists’. Key signs: Shorts when everyone else is wearing jeans, rucksacks, a map in hand and a confused expression.

What’s good for us residents, though, is that a lot of the key touristy hotspots are actually outside of the Centro. Up in the Albaicyn you’ll find: the Miradors – look for San Nicolas and San Miguel Alto, though the latter is not for the unfit as it is quite a hike, though it makes for some beautiful views.

Sunrise at San Miguel Alto. You can see the Alhambra palace to the left.

For those less inclined to hike, San Nicolas also has some stunning views, though this is a much more touristy hotspot so fighting for a good spot is necessary. You can get a bus to San Nicolas if you don’t fancy the walk, though there are a number of stairs to climb.

With Mummy at San Nicolas, my first weekend in Granada.

As for the Alhambra palace itself, I would recommend doing this pretty early on in your stay so that it’s not something you feel you have to do and struggle to fit it in. Plus doing it in the sunshine is much more enjoyable than the rain. I would also recommend choosing a Sunday to go and visit it, as it’s a well known fact that nothing opens on a Sunday in Spain and there’s nothing to do, so visiting the Alhambra is a perfect way to spend your day. It does take a few hours to do, so wear comfy clothes and sturdy shoes. I wore the above maxi dress and was perfectly comfy all day.

Other must-do tourism includes the earlier mentioned hop-on-hop-off bus, easily found by its distinct green roof, the Hammam Arabic baths, and a general wander around the Albaicyn. Wandering around the Realejo is also beautiful but there isn’t anything specific to see here. Other things to see could include the Parque de Lorca, off Camino de Ronda – not a park in the strictest sense, as there isn’t actually any grass, but this is a go-to place for reading and sunbathing and was once owned by Lorca himself. You might also want to see the science museum, though I haven’t checked it out and have coped just fine.

Nightlife and the Food Life

Granada is known as one of the main Erasmus hotspots, meaning a good nightlife is guaranteed. Most nights out begin with some tapas or a visit to botelladromo, which is basically a carpark filled with thousands of young adults (students/teenagers blah blah) drinking and chatting (it’s illegal to drink in the streets in Granada, so this carpark space was made for the young community).

The real place to kick off a night out however is Chupiteria 69, on Calle Socrates, where each shot is 1€ from a choice of over a hundred different combinations ranging from hard to soft. With each shot bought you earn a token, which can be collected and exchanged for prizes including mugs, sweatshirts and thongs. My shot of preference was Araña, a hard mix of vodka, gin and kiwi, that basically tastes of Apple Sourz.

A slightly dark picture of my first time at Chupiteria!

Calle Socrates is found off Calle Pedro Antonio de Alarcon, which is the popular hotspot for bars and tapas: a great place to do a tapas bar crawl. Here you’ll also find a wonderful bar called Cafe Amsterdam, where I had my birthday drinks, because cocktails are only 5€ and it’s not really a rowdy Erasmus bar. Perfect for a chilled, sophisticated drink when you want to avoid the other students.

For clubbing the two main clubs to go to are El Camborio and Mae West, on opposite sides of town. El Camborio is up in the Albaicyn and overlooks the Alhambra, offering the most stunning views at night of it all lit up. It plays a mix of English and Spanish music and on Friday nights is sponsored by ESN making entry free or almost free. It is quite a walk, so consider getting a taxi in winter and don’t ever wander up there alone.

View from El Camborio at night.

Camborio on Halloween. Have I spoken to any of these boys since? No.

Mae West is similar, though far more populated by resident Spaniards and a little fancier. ESN sponsor a night on Wednesdays that they call ‘Ladies Night’ which means free entry for the fairer sex. Hey, I’m not complaining, sexism has it’s benefits. Drinks are quite expensive here, but with the money you’ve saved on entrance, you can splash out on a vodka límon. And after botelladromo and Chupiteria as pregames, you should be covered.

Earlier in the term Best Life Experience also offer Wednesday nights out at Granero Pub next to Plaza Isabel, which are usually cheap to enter with cheaper drinks and make for a great precursor to the real deal.

For food, tapas is the name of the game. Granada is one of the only places in Spain that still gives out free tapas with every drinks so you can very easily eat out for under 10 euros, just by buying drinks (soft or alcoholic). Plaza Einstein is probably one of the best places for tapas because it’s not in the touristy areas and it’s very chilled to sit out and have a drink. However, below I’m going to bullet point all the best tapas places and where they are.

• Garden: on Calle Gonzalo Gallas Garden is probably the cheapest place to eat in Granada. For the cost of a drink (maybe 2€) you can get the drink, a salad, a sandwich and chips.
• Marmita: on Calle Carril del Picon, their aubergines with honey (a typical tapas dish, and my favourite, don’t knock it) are probably the best in Granada and as it was opposite my apartment, when Emily was here we used to go quite regularly.
• La Sitarilla: on Calle San Miguel Alta (not in the Albaicyn, don’t be fooled), they don’t offer you a choice here, though there’s a great atmosphere, so if you’re veggie like me make sure you tell them!
• Poë: on Calle Paz off Calle Puentezuelas, it’s run by an English couple and has some of the nicest tapas I’ve had in Granada, you can’t go wrong with whatever you pick from the 9 options.
• Ceveceria Cruz Blanca: in Plaza Einstein, they do a great smoked salmon and cream cheese baguette.
• Brasilia: in Plaza San Lazaro, where tapas can range from your regular aubergines or patatas bravas, all the way to a sandwich or a pizza.
• Babel: on Calle Elvira, they do a great guacamole.
• Anywhere on Pedro Antonio or Calle Elvira

Yet, tapas is so common, you could pretty much walk down any street in Granada and find somewhere great to eat. Watch out around Plaza Bib-Ramblas though, as this is tourist central, they do charge for tapas here.

Now turning to actual real life meals, there are some great places to eat in Granada.

• Panoramic 360: known as the best restaurant in Granada, it’s not actually as expensive as it seems with a main course costing around 22€. However, compared to usual Granada places, this is fine dining. The restaurant does what it says in the name: it revolves 360 degrees during your meal offering a whole view of Granada as you eat. A great place to go for a special occasion.
• Carmela: in the Realejo just past Plaza Isabel, this dining experience offers fresh food from a beautiful terrace. The stuffed peppers are not to be missed.
• Any of the teterias on Calle Elvira: as I said, they’re all pretty much the same, offering authentic Moroccan cuisine like couscous and tagines. The perfect accompaniment to the tea for which their famous (try the Pakistani) is the varied salad, which is four salads including an aubergine salad, humous and a cucumber salad that only costs around 10€ – perfect for sharing.
• Fresco: a cheap option for students on a budget and food for everyone, this is a self serve buffet for under 10€. On Gran Via.
• Il Gondiliere: props go to my mother for finding this on TripAdvisor, it’s a fabulous Italian off Plaza de Gracia, where locals go for a fancy meal, but realistically all the mains are under 10€. Perfect place to bring your family, especially in winter because it’s all enclosed.
• Gallio: in Plaza Bib-Ramblas, I’ve been here probably about 6/7 times in the whole year because it’s cheap, it’s yummy and there’s something for everyone. Definitely one to put on your list.
• For something sweeter: Cafe Bohemia. Yes it looks like a run down little shack from the outside, and yes, you’ll probably think you’re going to a meth den before you go inside, but once the doors open, they open into a time warp of a 60s jazz cafe, with the walls adorned with old memorabilia, which will have you staring around at everything for the entirety of your stay. Their tea, hot chocolates and ice cream are particularly fabulous – don’t miss out, track it down. It’s in Plaza Los Lobos.
• And don’t forget Smooy. There are two in Granada and they’re the best froyos ever.

Plaza Bib-Rambla: central tourist eating spot.

The Practicalities of Life

Now we all know a year abroad isn’t just about studying and clubbing, there’s the whole experience (which I’ll detail further below), which comes with practicalities.

Like money, cooking for yourself once in a while, and dealing with the joys of being a resident in Spain.

Residency

In order to be a resident, which is a requirement of the year abroad, you must pay a 10.50€ tax to get a residential permit called a NIE. This involves the fun experience of the Spanish Foreign Office, where queues can be long and sorting anything properly can be a huge hassle. You don’t need to have your NIE until three months into the experience, so I would recommend leaving it as late as possible if you don’t need it for opening a bank account or purchasing internet or anything; that way you can avoid the queues.

The whole experience of becoming a resident involves filling out a form at the Foreign Office (I believe I was sent one by UoB, so had it filled out before), presenting a photocopy and the hard copy of your passport and having your details processed. Then you have to go to the bank to pay the tax and then return the receipt to the Foreign Office. (I think, I am dragging these memories up from way back in November). The banks themselves open at bonkers times (this is Spain after all) and I believe you can only pay taxes in the morning until 12pm, or something like that. So go and sort this early in the day.

In all my time here, I’ve not once needed my NIE or got any use from it, but hey I contributed to Spain’s failing economy and I get a nice piece of paper for my memory box.

Oficina de Extranjeros

Money

In terms of money itself, I stayed away from opening a Spanish bank account. I know some people had success with a Santander and I even think with a UK Santander you can withdraw for free from any Santander ATM. I opened a traveller card with Thomas Cook back at home, which I think was the easiest thing. All I had to do was top it up every so often with my UK card and I could withdraw money from any ATM (for a 2€ charge, so I withdrew in chunks) and I could use it for free in any store or restaurant that accepted card (lots of places in Spain still don’t). When shopping, you can be asked for photo ID when paying with card (tarjeta), so keep this handy. Overall it’s incredibly cheap to live here and I haven’t wanted for anything. Just remember you’ve got a weight limit when you go into Bershka and the sale’s on!! (I would also recommend this mode of money holding for tourists, my mum used her TC Cashcard both times she was here and it saves carrying around large wads of cash – or in Spanish ‘efectivo‘)

NB: this is not my actual card. I just pulled this image from Google.

Transport

Getting around Granada is extremely easy: you can walk pretty much anywhere – I even managed to get Grandma to walk most of it (with regular stops) in lieu of getting taxis. Should you need them (such as to Panoramic 360 or the bus station with luggage) taxis are not expensive, usually under 10€.

The bus system is also incredibly easy to use; I’ve only need two bus lines: the U2 which took me up to campus and the SN1/2 which both go to the bus station. Each bus ticket is 1.20€ regardless of where you’re going, but you can opt to open up a bus card. There is a student one where each ride costs 60 cents, but the forms to purchase it were so complicated, I just opted to open the regular bus card where each ride was 80 cents. The card itself costs maybe 5€? I can’t quite remember but it’s very similar to London’s Oyster Card, where you tap in each time you get on the bus and it flashes up your credit and when you’re running low, just top up with the driver.

Real live image of what a bus looks like.

Granada itself isn’t that easy to get to as an Erasmus destination. The only UK airport that flies directly to Granada FGL Airport is London City, which for all us Northerners isn’t the easiest origin airport. That leaves the rest of us to fly into Malaga Airport and make the two hour journey to Granada from there. Her Royal Highness Princess Chloë began her Erasmus experience by getting a taxi to Granada, however from the many times I’ve flown from Malaga, I’m now a frequent customer of ALSA buses – the bus company that offers a regular schedule to and from the airport. For under 30€ return you can get to the airport in two hours or under and the times are usually pretty good.

I usually end up at Malaga an hour earlier than necessary and have ended up waiting at Malaga for 2 hours after I land to get back, but it’s much cheaper getting the bus than getting a taxi! With a good book or catching up with friends after the holidays, two hours pass pretty quickly. The best thing about ALSA buses (apart from their rapid speed) is that most of them are SUPRA buses which mean you can book your seat (and lots of them are single seats), you get free wifi on board and you get a baggie when you board with a bottle of water, cake and headphones. Sometimes there’s even seat-back TVs and plug points, if you’re lucky.

That’s just real luxury – look at those single seats.

Mobile Phone

Easiest thing to do? Take your iPhone with you, pop on down to the Phone House (easily confused with Carphone Warehouse, because their branding is identical) and purchase a sim card. I’m on Orange and I topped my phone up every so often at supermarkets, corner stores, even at uni. With Orange you can top up online, but it can be temperamental. With my sim I get 1GB of data for 30 days and can make the odd call and text. I would definitely recommend this over buying a brand new handset – it’s just unnecessary, and you can keep your WhatsApp on your UK number so your friends back home won’t even know the difference.

If the signs weren’t in Spanish (and if I hadn’t told you), would you really know the difference?

Supermarkets

There are supermarkets and chinos everywhere in Granada. I’m not being racist here, that’s what the little corner shops are called, where you can get all your basic snacks (like Milka chocolate, Kinder Buenos and Ruffles crisps) for a lot cheaper than the supermarkets. There’s one on almost every road, sometimes even two and these are your go-to hotspots for snacks.

For your bigger shops the main supermarkets are Carrefour, Mercadona and Hipercor. There’s only one Hipercor in Granada and it is a definite walk (it took me about 15 minutes from centro) but as part of El Corte Ingles, it’s definitely the superior supermarket. It’s a supermarket within a department store. Imagine Costco but better: with everything English you could possibly need, fresh fruit and veg, a butcher, a fishmonger and authentic Spanish cuisine too. The only thing I haven’t been able to get here was squash. But I’ve coped.

Eating okay isn’t hard here. It’s a culture shock definitely (especially when you don’t have an oven or a kettle like me) and I’ve had to adapt my eating habits. But you do, and you cope, and it just means that pizza is that much more special when you eventually get it.

Go ahead Jules, you tell ’em.

The Experience

Erasmus year is an experience. I’m going to be blunt with you – it might not be the best year of your life. I know that’s the cliché and that’s what they preach, but frankly, that’s not always the case. But oh my gosh it is an experience. THE experience. The once in a lifetime.

So yeah, you might have days huddled up to your heater crying over FaceTime, even though it’s cracking up and Mum and Dad can’t hear you and that just makes you even more upset.

But that? That won’t matter at all when you’re on the beach, or in Marrakech, or even having a glass of white on a terrace as the sun sets.

There are plenty of Erasmus students here and you can definitely feel the international vibe, especially in the clubs on an Erasmus night. There is certainly a difference between Spanish students and Internationals, and like a Gaydar, you’ll soon be able to scout out the other foreigners in your class. Especially us English. It’s nice in class to have someone to bond with over the misery and just how irritating the other students are!

As I’ve said many many times before, don’t let the pains of studying in UGR (in the top 5 in Spain but in my opinion in the dirt education wise) dilute the amazing experience of a year abroad.

In this year alone I have been to Marbella beach twice, been to various cities in Spain including Valencia, Sevilla and Barcelona on inexpensive society trips that usually involve long journeys but plenty of fun, spent Nochevieja (New Years Eve) in Salamanca on a special Nochevieja Universitaria for students just before term ended, been to Cadiz Carnaval, spent a weekend in Marrakech, and of course, the highlight of my year, 5 days in Ibiza.

I really wouldn’t miss out on the ESN Ibiza trip if you’re into partying and clubbing, tickets sell out quickly but it was the best 5 days of my year by far.

And what else is there to say? I have loved Granada and hated UGR and had the most wonderful time in this city. It is so special in so many ways and I completely recommend it to anyone, be you student, tourist, or city-hopper.

Hopefully this post has been useful and as for me? I’ve got one exam left and only 5 more days as a Granadian. It’ll be your turn next.

Good luck and for any future Erasmus, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me!! I know I would’ve liked some help before I left from someone with experience… I’m always open to answering any questions.

For everyone else, I think that rounds up my in Spain blogging! I’ll be sure to write one again over the next few weeks once I land back on Earth and can gather my thoughts.

Until then….

Good luck! Waldorf out…

 

So This Week I’ve Been a Spice Girl, a Charlie’s Angel and Shakira

I’m sure most people who have been to Morocco for the first time will describe a huge culture shock. Indeed, it was unlike anywhere I’d ever been before and very clearly not a Western society. Though there were hints and traces of other countries I’d been to, seeing it all amalgamated together was a complete whirlwind and quite jolting. I think if I hadn’t been living in Spain for the last seven or eight months (how many months am I on now seriously??) I would have found it a lot more jarring than I did. However, in reality, it was really just an exaggerated version of the country I’m currently living in, blended with a little of Israel and a lot of France.

The French language might have even been the most startling part, as I struggled to drag out words far buried in my brain from three years ago when I last studied it. After seven (or eight, who really knows, let me count) months in Spain I pretty much understand everything and find it easy to communicate my needs and wishes. Here, I reverted back to a struggling tourist, shouting in English and throwing in as many French words as I could remember.

Accurate.

 

Thank goodness we had myself and Nishma in our group, me having an A2 in French and her an AS, because without our attempts at spoken French, we might have really struggled to make our intentions clear, particularly with the woman who let us into our apartment and spoke not one word of English. We resulted in sign language and shouting: ONZE DU MATIN, ICI. ONZE DU MATIN, ICI. (11 am, here).

It was not nearly as hot as we wanted in Marrakech (in fact we only managed two days by the pool) and we really could’ve done without the downpour, but we still managed to do everything we wanted to do and luckily got to ride our camels on the hottest day.

Because Sam had been to Marrakech earlier in the year (February, if I’m not mistaken) I couldn’t help but compare everything I knew about his trip to the reality of mine. He stayed in a hotel – one of the nicest in Marrakech as far as I could tell, my AirBnb cost 10€ a night and the electricity fused twice. He had sushi served to him by the pool; I couldn’t work out how to turn the hob on.

Send help.

But all in all, the accommodation didn’t actually matter to me too much: the bed was comfy, the shower clean and because it was a residential apartment, we pretty much had the pool to ourselves. That was on the one day we could use the pool as maintenance had decided that particular week was the perfect opportunity to clean the concrete, meaning the pool was filled with dirt the rest of the time.

And I’m sure Sam did not have the same experiences as us in the Jamaa el-Fnaa, the central marketplace of Marrakech. After settling into our apartment and spending a day relaxing by the pool, our visit to the Jamaa was our first real Moroccan experience. It is a bustling mass of people and voices, selling and shouting and chasing you with snakes. Thanks, but no thanks. Also no thanks to the offer of a Henna tattoo for 1 Dirham (equivalent to 1o cents here), which by the looks of the needle came with HIV for no extra charge.

Now I know we’ve all heard the stories about being wary in Marrakech, especially if you’re a girl. Trust me, I had at least 5 different people warning me to be careful and that I might be uncomfortable around the men. It’s not uncommon in Granada to be shouted at in the street, and I was even catcalled once at 7 in the morning as I headed to a taxi with my giant suitcase to go home. However, in Marrakech (especially in the market), it’s not a successful day for a man unless they’ve called after a girl with something they suppose to be charming. The many names we were called collectively included:

• Spice Girls
• Nice size, nice eyes
• Skinny girls (awh, thanks guys, I have been watching my weight)
• Charlie’s Angels (I’ll be Cameron Diaz thanks)
• Madonna (Jayne)
• Lady Gaga (Jayne)
• Shakira (Me)
• Kim Kardashian (Soraya)
• Beyoncé (Chanika)
• and a variety of places and countries. I’d list Soraya’s here, but I fear she might punch me.

I found it funny to be honest. It was a struggle to keep it together when they called after you and especially when one gentleman ushered me into his shop, only to pop up five seconds later with ‘Hello again!’ Perhaps I would’ve been more perturbed had I come straight from England, but in reality, it hardly bothered me at all.

Bow down to your Princess.

In these marketplaces, haggling is key. Anyone who’s been to a Shuk in Israel knows that a seller can be bartered down and it was no different in the souks of Marrakech. Maybe even easier considering we were a group of five of the fairer sex, each with more sassiness than the next. We were unafraid to argue ’30 Dirhams or I walk. Fine, I’m leaving, I saw it for cheaper over there anyway’ and to walk away with an item for over half of the original price. In fact, Jayne managed to haggle down a 250 Dirham cushion cover to two for 100.

In actuality, anything and everything in Marrakech can be haggled down (except of course fixed price food and drink). Taxis, camel rides and souvenirs are all fair game and are often an open market. Be prepared in Marrakech to stand your ground and trust me, you won’t get anywhere unless you use your voice. Start at the lowest price you can and work your way until you meet in the middle.

Sass it up ladies.

Like most places, Marrakech has its beautiful parts and poverty stricken parts. We were staying in Gueliz, the urban centre of Marrakech, surrounded by Western shops like Zara and Mango (though the prices were bumped up from those we’re used to in Granada) and Western food chains (Starbucks and McDonalds). When we did our camel ride, we were up in the desert parts of Marrakech and had a first hand view of rural life. There was certainly a sharp contrast and juxtaposition between the two.

As for food, it is very easy to eat well in Morocco, provided you like Moroccan food. Of the four nights we were there we ate on panoramic restaurants three times (twice in the market itself) and once in a more Western bistro, having a break from the tagines and couscous I had had three nights in a row.

We also indulged in a more luxurious way of life, escaping our apartment for the finesse of the Sofitel hotel or the Azar Lebanese lounge for drinks. When you’re residing in an apartment for 10€ a night, it’s easy to wander up to the hotel and pretend you live there instead, whilst sipping cocktails chosen from a menu that lights up when you touch it.

Ooooh, aaaahhh

Overall I had a great time in Marrakech, and I’m certainly glad for the experiences. I don’t know whether I’d go there again but I think everyone should at least once. And maybe the heat of August isn’t the best time to go, if you don’t want to be ogled whilst wearing as little clothing as possible to escape the heat.

For anyone going, these are my top tips:

• It can get windy at night, even on the hot days: if you’re going out for the evening, make sure to take a jacket.
• Don’t bother booking camels before you go, or from an agency – they often rip you off. We just got in a taxi and asked him to take us to Palmarie, and more specifically, where the camels are. We got an hour on the camels for only 200 Dirhams (20€), which is usually the base price, even if they start at 350 – you can always haggle it down.
• And in that sense, HAGGLE HAGGLE HAGGLE. The only way forward really – why don’t we do this more in Europe?
• Girls: don’t worry about dressing conservatively if that makes you uncomfortable. You will get shouted at either way, whether you’re in a maxi skirt or in shorts, so go with what makes you feel comfortable and take it in your stride.
• The best places to stay are Gueliz or Medina. Gueliz is the more contemporary part with cheaper restaurants and lots of bars, Medina is the more expensive area but closer to the main Jamaa el Fna. However, everywhere in the city is pretty easy to get to and can be walked (if you’re not lazy like us) so pick either.
• Go-to restaurants:
  • Restaurant Marrakchi (I think that’s how it’s spelled!): it’s in Jamaa el Fna and has the best view of the market and is definitely the most upmarket of all of them. They have live music whilst you eat and it’s a luxurious setting with exquisite food. Make sure to book, there’s usually someone stood outside the door to make a reservation. If you’re lucky, like us, he’ll chase you round the market for the rest of the night trying to take you to another restaurant he works for. (Marrakchi has a connection with a Riad – or hotel – down the road).
  • Azar Lebanese Lounge: we only went here for drinks, but I wish we’d done the whole evening here. I didn’t get a good look at the food menu but the cocktails were incredible, there was a really relaxed atmosphere and there was live belly dancing. And Happy Hour was from 10pm!!
  • If you’re sick of Moroccan food (though really, who can be with those yummy caramelised onions on the couscous) we went to a Cafe Bar next to the Sofitel. I can’t remember the name but they had lots of Western food, including pizza, pasta, sandwiches and the smoked salmon panini I had. It was also pretty much dirt cheap for what you get so makes a nice change from the more expensive Moroccan food.
• All in all, the city itself is inexpensive (especially what you can haggle) but be careful with money. Dirhams are a closed currency, meaning you can only buy them in Morocco. My advice is change a little in the airport and then at a change point, which are pretty much everywhere (and they’ll change in the banks as well). However they only change back to Euros/Pounds in the airport and, obviously, won’t change coins, so be careful if you don’t want to be stuck with Dirhams.

And that, I suppose, is my recap of Marrakech. We chilled by the pool, I read four books, we saw the Jardin Majorelle (with a stump dedicated to Yves Saint Laurent. If I were Yves, I’d like a better memorial, thanks), we experienced the Jamaa el Fna, we loved the Sofitel (and yes, I loved the cocktails) and we rode camels. What more could you want?? Good food, good experience and good people.

And now, can you believe it, I have less than 6 weeks left in Spain. I’m definitely going to make the most of it, especially as I just found out today is my last full day of classes!! So I think I should go to the beach this weekend, don’t you?

Obligatory Blair.

So What Happens in Ibiza Doesn’t Necessarily Stay in Ibiza

Mainly because I’m going to write about it in this here blog.

It’s late on a Monday morning, I’m extremely tired and I can feel the beginnings of a multitude of illnesses approaching. But this is, and only can be, a symptom of an amazing trip. I had it after camp, after tour, after Genesis Israel and now I can appreciate my Ibiza flu.

Because I had the most incredible time ever and I think I can safely say it has been the highlight of my year abroad so far.

Oh yeah.

It all began at midnight on Tuesday evening, when we boarded a bus filled with suitcases filled with alcohol. Oh the struggle of getting a suitcase with 4 bottles of vodka and 6 of gin on board. Fortunately, Soraya hits the gym on a regular basis so we were sorted.

Due to the late departure time, and the fact that we would be driving through the night, I was hoping to get some sleep. This was not to happen, because we had chosen to sit in front of a group of overexcited French ‘lads’ who were getting the party started ASAP, along with their new Italian friend who didn’t know how to keep her voice down and to whom I quite wanted to give a nice healthy smack.

Eventually we arrived at Dénia, where we got the ferry to Ibiza. At this point I found out that they’d got my names confused and thought I was called Rose. I was called Rose for the rest of the trip. Just no.

The ferry itself was fine, a little bumpy, but relatively quick.

After many, many, (many) hours of travelling, and a very unnecessary wait for check-in, we finally got to our apartment. Soraya, Jayne and I were lucky enough to have an apartment to ourselves and for the amount we paid, it was actually rather nice. For the 335€ we paid we got: travel to and from Granada, accommodation, entry to 4 clubs and travel to and from said clubs, a free drink every night, entry to a water park and a ferry to and from the island of Fomentera. Pretty decent if you ask me.

We unpacked and stocked up on supplies from a local supermarket and then we got to go to the beach.

What we’d all been waiting for, TANNING TIME.

BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH.

We tanned, we relaxed, we gave dirty looks at anyone who squirted water out of water guns at us and we didn’t speak to anyone.

That night we had a ‘school party’. Though I’m not usually a fan of themed-nights out, it did make deciding what to wear easier. White shirt (H&M, 9.99€), pink tie (Chino, 2€) and denim shorts (wearer’s own). The co-ordinators had told us girls to wear extra short skirts, showing that sexism is well and truly alive in Spain.

At the end of the night, it was coming up to 6am and we were cold and we couldn’t find our bus, but we could find the Malaga bus, who were staying at the same apartment complex as us. They didn’t want to let us on the bus, even though they knew we were cold, tired and so done with standing outside. Luckily we had Jayne – or as she is now known, Janine (her drunken alter-ego) – who knew one of the Malaga co-ordinators (for what reason, we still don’t know, but he had her full name and ESN details saved in his phone) and he let us onto their bus.

The next day, ever the active participants, we eschewed the organised activities and headed to the beach to chill and tan. Perfection.

Beach vibes

In the evening we took a taxi to San Antoni, the more touristic area of the island and had a wander around the city centre and the port. We ended up having dinner overlooking the port at a health restaurant where all the food was organic – and incredible. I had a double decker roasted vegetable sandwich with sweet potato fries and coleslaw, with an energy water, which consisted of water with raspberries and lime. I’m still drooling about it now.

NOM.

After dinner, we walked back along the port to the legendary Café del Mar, which is famous for its chilled-out playlists and stunning views of the sunset. We managed to nab a table right on the terrace and had some cocktails as we watched the sun go down.

That night was the Water Party – possible the night we had been anticipating the most, because we had no idea exactly what it would entail. We’d YouTubed it before and had an inkling that the water rose up from the bottom of the club and we might get a little wet. They also told us to wear closed toe shoes, so I made sure to buy some 10€ trainers before the trip.

As alcohol is the ultimate liberator we managed to make some foreign friends on our way there. They taught us their songs and chants and we in turn taught them ours. By the time we were off the bus, we had them running down the street, screaming ‘YOU WOT, YOU WOT’ at the top of their lungs. Nothing quite like cultural amalgamation.

For the first four or so hours, it was like a normal club, with very good music and the usual antics. Janine was swinging from a chandelier and Soraya did pull-ups on the very same chandelier. No issues there.

By the time we got to four/five am, we were all in the central pit where the water was meant to come from. It was a sweaty, clustered trench filled with perspiring bodies and major overheation (hi mum). People were stripping left, right and centre into bikinis and swimwear we had luckily put on underneath our clothes. In the sticky mess, we began to chant: “AGUA, AGUA, AGUA, AGUA”. Half an hour later, we would not be so desperate.

After what felt like hours, water began to drip from sprinklers above us and within seconds, we were drenched. Full on drowned rats.

So much worse than this.

The pit filled up to waist height and we were clinging to each other for dear life as the water drowned us and we struggled to stay standing. I’m quite proud to say that only myself, Soraya, David and Freddie made it to the end – though as I’m the weakest and littlest one, I have to thank them for keeping me alive.

Well, don’t.

At the end, we waded out of the pool, sopping wet but feeling exhilarated. We had packed dry clothes into a rucksack and stored it in a cloakroom, so went to change out of our sodden rags that were once clothes. I also fell down the slippy stairs on the way and have a cracking blue bruise to show for it.

You’d think after nearly drowning, we’d be pretty down, but we were so happy and proud of our achievements. We went home on the bus, watched the sunrise and had some toast to celebrate.

Survivors: post-agua.

The next day, we were treated to yet more water, in a more relaxed form. We had entry to Benimussa Water Park, where we chilled out with music, drinks, a pool party and a foam party. If I’m being honest, the foam party wasn’t exactly chilled. I’d been to one before in Birmingham, where foam fell from the sky in light bubbles and we played around in it and threw it at each other and it was very safe. This was nothing like it.

This foam party was rammed with people and had a great, huge, foam gun that shot out foam and within 5 seconds my face was covered, I couldn’t see, it was up my nose, in my ears, down my throat. Of course, because I’m so small, it got me even worse and I thought I was facing the end. Even screaming for help did not help. I was like Will in the Inbetweeners, stuck and helpless.

Mummy, or ambulance.

After standing for a moment and screaming for help, I decided I couldn’t find my friends and it would be safer to just fight my way out. I struggled out of the crowd, coughing my guts up and was finally free from the foam. An hour later after we’d all calmed down and started to see the funny side, we returned to the scene of the crime to throw the lingering foam at each other and take a photo with some strategically placed foam.

Survivors. Again.

We chilled out by the pool, danced to the music and eventually made our way back to the bus feeling extremely satisfied and happy with the day. It was becoming difficult to decide which day had been the best of my year abroad. I was thinking the day before, but after the neon party that night, I might have been prepared to change my mind.

The club we went to was within walking distance so we made our way there on foot, covered in neon paint and with our matching neon sunglasses that were gifted to us by the co-ordinators. Obviously mine were pink and nicely matched my clothes.

Once we were inside we partied the night away and raved it up until the early hours. Jayne made lots of friends and achieved two targets she had set herself earlier in the day. Congratulations Janine!!

I’m proud to say we were the last ones in the club and at 6.05am we were still dancing away in an empty room. GIRLS NIGHT WITH DAVE. ❤️❤️

LAST ONES IN THE CLUB.

I can’t even describe what made it so fun that night. We just loved the music, loved each other and loved Ibiza. We were high on life. After being escorted out by security who were ready to close up the club, we had a leisurely stroll back to the apartment as the sun came up. It was blissful.

 

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As we had to be up and out of the room at half 10, we fully intended to stay up and pack for leaving Ibiza, but by half 7 I was majorly struggling to keep my eyes open and passed out for a couple of hours sleep.

We could have afforded more sleep, because even though we were up and ready at half 10, the co-ordinators obviously weren’t and we had to wait another hour or so to actually sort out the activity of the day.

For the day, we got a ferry over to the island of Fomentera, which is the most stunning island with a series of gorgeous beaches. In our hungover and exhausted states, somehow us three managed to forget to bring bikinis, towels or flip flops. Or sun cream. To the beach. Idiots.

When we arrived at the beach, it was the most blissful sight.

Ahhhhhh

We relaxed all day on the sands, eating the most unhealthy food possible and paddling in the waters. We also climbed up some rocks to the other side of the beach for a secluded sight of even more stunning views. We also saw some unexpected sights as it turned out we had found the nudist beach. 👍👌

I had my first ice cream of the season that day and also spent the day attached to my phone waiting for any and every news of the royal baby. Welcome to the world, Princess of Cambridge. By the end of the day, everyone was pretty much sick of my royal family adoration.

Crew love

For the final night, we had the White Hippie Party, where our overuse of peace signs finally came in handy. We attempted to pack as much as possible beforehand as check out was at 9am the next morning, but somehow at 8am I found myself still a little tipsy, trying to remember to pack everything.

For the Hippie Party we went to Eden club and tried not to get too upset about our final night in Ibiza. It was like a dream. We danced and partied, and ended up peaking a little too early and left before the coach did to get some much needed rest. Maybe I would’ve stayed longer, maybe I should’ve stayed longer, but in my head, the perfect thing to do would be go back to the apartment and get a McDonalds.

Unfortunately, the cab driver had other ideas and refused to take us to McAuto – Spain’s answer to the Drive Thru.

We returned to the flat and Soraya and I became chefs, making fried mushrooms and tomatoes on toast. Yum yum yum yum yum.

Hippie life. So much love.

The next day was our return to the mainland. A long day of much travelling and exhaustion, but mainly reminiscing on our amazing five days on the island. Without a doubt, that trip was the epitome of what a year abroad should be: sun, sea and super friends. And Spanish of course, which we practiced a lot with the Italians.

And now, I’m sat in class, attempting to concentrate and wishing I was back on that beach. Even if I fail all my exams, at least now I know that my year abroad was a success because of that trip – the trip of a lifetime. So thank you ESN Granada, thank you my friends and thank you Spain for giving me a real treat and a real experience.

Obligatory Blair gif: Me in Biza.

I’ll always have Ibiza. Or Beefa, as we lovingly call it in our common English accents.

#peaceout

So We’re On The Home Straight

I can barely believe that I only have three months left on my year abroad. It feels like just yesterday I was terrified, boarding a plane with Mum and Dad, and a bunch of drunk middle aged men at 7am. This year has gone ridiculously quickly. Or no, the last three or four months have gone ridiculously quickly.

I feel like I’ve kind of neglected my blog in those few months, not because I wasn’t having an amazing time, but rather because what I was doing became routine and maybe whole blog posts about going to the supermarket became unnecessary.

Because my life now has become about work, work and work. These Spaniards work ridiculously hard, and I’ll tell you something, I am looking forward to going back to Birmingham where my longest day at uni consisted of 4 hours. At the moment I’ve got 3 exams and a ten page essay to write, and we’re not even into final exam season yet.

Plz just take me to Wonderland.

I haven’t even been clubbing in months. Oh wait, no Barcelona. Whoops. But it doesn’t really count when it’s in another city.

I guess I’m just scared that time is hurrying up and I’m not making the absolute most of my year abroad. But the truth is I don’t have time to in the middle of all this studying!

I’ve been on some brilliant hikes, I’m a firm favourite in shops like Zara and Bershka, but is that really it? I feel like I should be spending every day on a terrace somewhere sipping Sangria. But when uni starts at 8.30am the next morning, it’s hard to get anyone to drag themselves out.

I guess I just really need to make the most of the time I have left. Which is why I’m going to Ibiza next week!

Get down girl…

I promise it won’t be anything like Barcelona. It will be BETTER (and more memorable) than Barcelona. Tanning all day, dancing all night. I’m really excited to go.

So keep watching this space, because I’m sure there will be some exciting stories to tell.

Once my extra Spanish classes end at the CLM, in roughly two weeks, that will free up not only my afternoons, but my friends’ evenings, as their classes go on until half 9 at night. So maybe there’ll be more evening Sangria opportunities then. Or if not Sangria, at least Smooy.

In other news, 3 week countdown until Mummy and Grandma come to Granada! Or as Mum called it ‘Girls on Tour’. Can’t wait to have my twinnies in Granada and maybe do some shopping?

And if it’s 3 weeks to Mummy and Grandma coming, then it’s four weeks until Morocco!

So I guess I really do have a bunch of exciting things coming up…

With only – checks countdown – 75 days left, it’s a serious business now about making this year the best it can be. Don’t misinterpret my countdown, it isn’t because I can’t wait to get home (though I can’t), it’s more to remind me how precious this time is and that if I’m ever in the house all day watching Gossip Girl, I need to get outside and make the most of my final days in the sun.

Not that there’s anything strictly wrong with 5 episodes of Gossip Girl a day.

Blair approves.

Until next times, besos.

So There Were Cocktails, Cádiz and one Crazy CLM Class

My exams finally finished and I passed all except one! But in the true spirit of Spain being a bonkers country, the new semester started straight away the following Monday so I had to squish all my post-exam celebrations into four days. I think this new term will have a lot more success than the previous one (touch wood) because I actually like most of my classes and can understand all the teachers. Plus, no Carmen the evil linguistics teacher, which is always a plus.

I was never suited to linguistics anyway. As I said to pretty much anyone who would listen, take subjects you enjoy rather than ones you think will help your Spanish. So this semester I will be enjoying: English Literature II, Introduction to Comparative Literature, Introduction to Literary Studies and Judaism and Modernity. Sounds right up my street.

Surprise surprise, there’s another strike today (these Spanish students seriously don’t need to be complaining about fees, I’ll never be able to pay back my loans). So I have a two hour gap now until my next class and tomorrow’s only lecture is cancelled.

But going back to the end of my exams, it was 8pm, I had just finished and in the grand words of Bridesmaids: 

You go girl, you tell ’em Kristen.

Naturally, the way forward was a visit to Mae West, Granada’s premier club, where girls go free on Wednesdays. We began the night with shots at Chupiteria, cocktails at Amsterdam café and upon entering Mae West found ourselves in the midst of an Erasmus pre-party where we were given stickers with our country’s flag on. Given that the Irish and Italian flags are similar, some confusion was presented to Jayne.

Once in the club we were dancing the night away, avoiding (as much as possible) creepy men and making friends with the USA University Ski Cross Team who were in town for some Winter University sports thing Granada was hosting. Though still to this day I’m seriously critical of the fact that they were wearing their ski jackets in the club. I get that they wanted to look cool, but they’re insulated for a reason and to me, that just screams sweaty.

The night ended with a fight between an Italian girl and her boyfriend (in which she kicked said boyfriend) and I collapsed into bed at 5am.

At the weekend we went to Cádiz for the famous Carnaval, which is apparently the most famous carnaval in Spain, where everyone wears fancy dress and spends the whole night partying. I went as a hippy, Jayne as Minnie Mouse, and Soraya as a Hawaiian. We’re so original.

Before we even got to Cádiz, there were stories to tell. We found ourselves on the bus full of rowdy Spaniards, including a gentleman dressed as Conchita Wurst, who serenaded us with All of Me, and Diamonds by Rihanna. My advice? Work on the stresses of words mate, though your dress was fabulous.

There were also bottles of alcohol to be won and we were advised on how to win these:

‘You can sing a song or do a striptease’.

Needless to say, us prim English girls weren’t joining in.

When we got to Cádiz, after a lot of wandering around, we eventually discovered that the famous Carnaval was really just a giant Botellon. Or in English terms, drinking on the streets. We perhaps didn’t pick the best weekend for it, because by midnight it was pouring with rain, freezing cold and we were literally stood in the streets until 5am.

Am I going to die out here?

I’m still really glad we went, it was the kind of experience you need to have on your year abroad, but I think it would’ve been better if we’d known more people and if the weather was a little better. I thought I came to Spain to get away from the rain?!

But the absolute icing on the cake was turning up to the bus at 5am, ready to leave and finding out that the driver had overslept and we had to wait in the rain for another hour before we could leave. HAHAHA. GR8.

Thankfully we made it back in good time and relatively good spirits, and so far, I’m yet to contract pneumonia.

We’re doing well.

And now classes have started. I have 9 hours of classes on Mondays and Wednesdays culminating in my extra Spanish classes at the Centro de Lenguas Modernas (which are by far the best classes I’ve ever taken – I’m now up a level from last semester and rocking it).

CLM classes started this Monday and we turned up expecting a bunch of get-to-know-you games and an introduction to the course. What we got, was the shock of our lives and we were incepted. But Leo was nowhere in sight.

The teacher introduced himself as Simón, a man who goes against the curve and doesn’t like the structure of a standard lesson. He also told us he wouldn’t be writing anything on the board because he was allergic to chalk when he was younger and permanent marker makes him itch. Also, he doesn’t like anything permanent, and prefers the transience of time. Bloody wishy-washy Spaniards.

Instead of telling each other our names, he suggested we play a game of spies. This game involved creating a false identity the complete opposite of ourselves and putting it into a hat, drawing someone’s out and trying to figure out who they were.

My false identity was Jake, a 50 year old man who loved sports and hated bright colours. Except his ginger hair.

Once we’d spent an hour and a half trying to figure each other out and Simón spent ten minutes trying to work out how to pronounce my name (it’s Chloë. Chlo-e. How difficult is that?? He can pronounce the Chinese girl’s name, Efan, but not Chloë. Srsly.) the whole thing took a turn for the bizarre.

Simón was not our teacher. His name wasn’t even Simón. He was Juan, and our actual teacher was Ana who had spent the last hour and a half pretending to be a student in the class. Honestly at this point I didn’t know what to believe.

Our faces exactly.

I’m still feeling a little shaken 2 days later and seriously don’t know what to expect this afternoon. Only time will tell.

In other news, my countdown to coming home has begun again: 4 weeks tomorrow, and time is really flying. I can barely believe that after this break I’ll be on the final stretch of my year abroad. It’s actually gone so quickly, and with all the exciting things I have planned, I have a feeling it’s going to go even more quickly from here on out. But more on those another time.

Peace out.

Obligatory Blair gif.

 

So It’s Been A While

Helloo friends! Apologies for not updating in a while (since before Christmas, eek!) but admittedly life in Granada has not been too exciting of late. But since I finish my exams this week and everything will pick up again, I thought I’d give you all an update on what I’ve been up to, before the madness starts again.

Christmas was indeed, the most wonderful time of the year. I was so beyond happy to go home and spend quality time with the most important people in my life – my family and friends. The nearest and dearest. If I’m honest, all I did for two and a half weeks was eat loads and smile constantly. There is nothing more perfect than good food and a warm house (both literally and figuratively – seriously, why does this country have no heating??)

Hugs all round.

Mum and I went to see Billy Elliot The Musical in which the dancing was fantastic; I ate a triple decker burger the size of my head and I spent New Year’s Eve eating, drinking and playing DreamPhone with my bests. Couldn’t ask for anything more.

I came back to Granada to cold weather and even colder studying. (Does that make sense? Either way, it was exam period). Even though we had three weeks left of term, the lecturers seemed to be wrapping things up pretty quickly, meaning I found their lectures increasingly pointless and after one and a half weeks of this, I figured that a more useful way to spend my time would be in the library revising.

Speaking of libraries, it is no 1C here, I will tell you that. The chairs are not comfy, there’s no heating (again) and it fills up twice as fast. Also, no libraries are open at the weekend here. Hilarious. It’s not as if we have exams to revise for or anything.

Luckily Jayne and Nishma provided and their apartment has been turned into our temporary library. Useful because:

a) we’re all studying

b) there’s always tea

c) we’re all there when we get a bit delirious and end up listening to a 10 hour Chinese rap song

d) there’s usually a takeaway at the end of the day. Lusm Pad Thai Wok.

I actually think I might miss our studying sessions…

Alright Hermione, chill.

I was super excited to go home last week and surprise Marissa for her birthday. She had absolutely no clue and her double take when she came into the room and I was sat there was one of the best looks and moments, which I will never forget. We had an incredible weekend with Jamie’s Italian, chicken goujons, long missed snuggles and the icing on the cake, B4J.

If anyone’s ever looking for a confidence booster, go away for six months and come back and surprise people – it’s a total thrill.

But seriously, I had the most amazing time at B4J and didn’t realise just how much I’d missed Birmingham. Now I’m just so excited to go back in September. After I get the rest of my year abroad done (I’m of the full belief that it will become even more incredible as soon as the weather turns, so that’s something to look forward to).

Apart from my time in Birmingham, I also got the chance last week to spend quality time with my family and see my favourite, Rebecca. So all in all it was a pretty perfect week. And Mummy and I went to Coronation Street!

Only the best for the best.

And now I’m back in sunny España. Despite the freezing cold temperatures, it’s still managing to be quite sunny here. Though props to Soraya for convincing me that I was coming back to blizzards and thick snow. Not a drop of the white stuff in sight. Ha-ha.

So on Wednesday my exams finish, I’m finally hitting Mae West again after a lengthy absence and next weekend we grace Cádiz, for another 24 hour extravaganza a la Salamanca. Should be a riot. I’ll keep you posted.

Until next time….

So There’s Nothing Quite Like A Raid From The Civil Guards To Kick Off A Trip to Salamanca

I am returning to England in four days. FOUR DAYS. The excitement is uncontainable. Mainly for central heating, carpet and my electric blanket. But seeing the family and eating lots is also top priority.

But let’s go back a bit, and I’ll tell you about the last few weeks.

We went to check out the Christmas markets here in Granada. Analysis? Nowhere near as good as England. There were no chocolate covered strawberries, no mulled wine (no alcohol in general) and no sausages, for which the Birmingham market is famous. There were just lots and lots of statues of Jesus.

You tell ’em, B.

 

Note to Spain: less Jesus, more alcohol.

Somehow the weekends go really really quickly here. Then again so do the weeks, which isn’t hard when you’re in uni for 7 hours a day twice a week and 4 hours the other two days. Luckily enough, last week (due to the Immaculate Conception, thanks Mary) we had Monday off, and because I went to Salamanca on Thursday, I ended up only having two days of uni. Hurrah!

We went to Sala to celebrate ‘Nochevieja Universitaria’ which is basically New Year’s Eve for students, before everyone goes home for actual New Year’s Eve. So imagine a lot of revelry and rowdiness, if you will.

The trip itself – as is every trip here apparently – was full of excitement. Soraya and I were well prepared for our seven hour bus journey, by bringing our blankets and fluffy socks. Everyone on the trip was totally jealous, even if their sniggers said otherwise.

In the most sensational news I actually won the lottery for the trip, which meant I got (/am getting, still yet to be returned to me) the money back from the trip. Woohoo!! (This is sorely needed, since with the lack of grant yet – thanks UoB – I’m struggling.)

All I do is win, win, win, win.

And then, three quarters of the way through the journey, we got a surprise guest on the bus. The Civil Guards had pulled us over and brought their sniffer dogs on board!! Lucky us!

The organisers told us to hurriedly hide any alcohol we had, but to be honest, it wasn’t the alcohol that was the worrying part, as we knew for a fact there would be a different kind of illicit substance on the other bus. The dogs were actually really cute and our bus fortunately got away scot-free, but I believe we heard that some on the other bus weren’t quite so lucky.

But of course that would happen to us, of course it would. Because we’re incapable of having a trip without some sort of drama.

Once we got to Sala, we wandered around a bit (a lot) having food, looking at some shops, getting in a fight with the Smöoy lady (which would never have happened in Granada) and Soraya got a gift from a lovely bird.

By 9/9.30pm the music was starting in Plaza Mayor, which is a very nice big square in the middle of Salamanca. Madrid has one also, and we really need to get one in Granada. It was stunning.

Soraya and I went to investigate and join the party, but we got über jealous of people carrying round light-up batons and Coca-Cola cups. So of course, we had to go and figure out where to get them from. BIG MISTAKE.

Once we’d left Plaza Mayor and tried to get back in, the organisers told us we weren’t allowed in with our plastic bottles of drink and could only take in the paper cups. This therefore led to us trying to force our drinks down our throats to a point where there was only so much that would fit in the cups. Sickness was brewing, I’ll tell you that, and I had to sit down for a moment to gather myself. We also ended up feeding a plant some of our drinks.

Sneakily, however, we managed to sneak in a teeny tiny bottle of vodka and must have ended up shotting it throughout the night, because it wasn’t there the next morning.

The fiesta itself was just one big giant rave of students, waving their light-up batons in the air and jumping around. Somehow in the crowd we found Soraya’s flatmates which was fun, because it meant it wasn’t just the two of us embarrassing ourselves.

At midnight in Spain there is a tradition of eating twelve grapes in twelve seconds. Don’t ask, I don’t know why either. But as midnight struck, there wasn’t the usual display of people eating each other’s faces, rather they were stuffing grapes into their mouths. This is not as easy as it sounds. Especially after alcohol. But I will be nominating Daddy to try it this year, because I imagine that would be a hysterical sight.

There were grapes falling out everywhere, it was really rather disgusting.

Just, no.

After the rave, we went to a bar/club that we had paid 4€ for entry and a free drink. Not too shabby. But they did not have a cloakroom, which was most disappointing and meant we had to dance around with out coats on, or in my case, half hanging off. You would never see that in England. People wouldn’t even have brought their coats, never mind that it was -2 degrees outside.

It was fun though, the club was good, there were loads of Erasmus students, which meant we got to see some people from our course and Emily as well which was so, so lovely. There was a lot of hugging and screaming involved.

Pure bliss.

By 5am we were all thoroughly exhausted. I made friends with an Irish guy called Ronan (yes, he’s heard all the jokes before) as we sat outside, in the freezing cold, just ready for bed. So we found our way back to the bus, covered ourselves in our handy blankets and I dug into the cheese sandwich they had given us for lunch, that I had the sense to save for an opportune moment like this. Soraya and I also shared a peanut butter sandwich, which (in the immortal words of Blue Peter) I had prepared earlier.

We arrived back to Granada cold, tired and, well, hungover. Mummy and Uncle Adam really enjoyed the sight of me sat in the dark, extremely pale and unable to contend with loud noises, when we FaceTimed later that day.

In other news, last night we had a farewell Christmas dinner. I was in charge of vegetables. And thankfully there was not one nut-roast in sight. As a meat-eating vegetarian, let me tell you that nut-roast (which seems to be the go-to meal for veggies at Christmas) is nowhere near as good as chicken/turkey/anything else.

Fortunately for us, we had aubergine parmigiana, stuffing balls, this lentil Moroccan thing, veggie crepes and of course, my vegetables. There was also some fantastic veggie gravy, which was much appreciated as I slathered it all over my mashed potatoes.

By the end, I was stuffed and in a lot of pain from over eating. I was fearful that I would have to be rolled home. This is my aim for Christmas, to eat so much that Mummy and Daddy have to roll me onto the plane.

Wup, there I go….

Which brings us right up to date. To four days to going home. To my Spanish exam in two days and my painful wait for my Erasmus grant. But really, I can get through these four days, and I can get through this exam, and (just) I can get through the wait for my money. Because I’m going home for Christmas.

See you on the other side, folks.

So The Countdown Begins…

Here in Granada we have begun the countdown to Christmas. At least, us English students have. We can’t wait to be back in England with our families and just not be Spanish for five minutes and not have to deal with the Spanish problems (dodgy internet, I’m looking at you). Though it did rain last night, which made it feel a little closer to an English winter. However, the truth is there is just a distinct lack of Christmas spirit here. Correct me if I’m wrong, but at home the Christmas lights are on and Christmas music is beginning to appear here and there?

Well, the lights are up here but there’s a bit of a debate amongst the students about when they’ll be turned on… I’m thinking it should be now, please, and we wouldn’t mind a Christmas tree dotted about or a spot of festive music.

Ah well, in three weeks I’ll be home for Christmas, snuggled up on the sofa with Mummy watching The Holiday, just how I like it.

No Jude Law, you’re lovely.

I just have to get through two pieces of coursework and an exam in Spanish first. The first piece is just about completed. What was intended to be a five page analysis of publicity ended up as twelve pages of Spanish drivel… I’m so looking forward to my Spanish friends tearing my grammar apart when I ask them to check it for me!

Oh and there’s the plans to bob up to Salamanca for what is apparently the best party of the year. Keep your fingers crossed for me…

I was so lucky last weekend to have my lovely, wonderful best friend Rebecca come and visit me. I know she’s been waiting desperately for a feature in my blog, so darling Rebecca, here you are.

Oh look and here you are again. There, that’s you and me…

It was so good to just not do anything but spend time with each other. We went shopping, we went to the Arabic Baths and we ate (a lot) but more than anything we just caught up and cherished being with each other. I don’t know about Rebecca, but all I wanted to do was see my best friend, have cuddles and spend our time together the way we always do… watching TV in bed (which we did).

We didn’t need to be tourists, see the Alhambra or be active all day every day. We just needed to be together. And I’m so eternally grateful for her for coming out to visit me and I love you so, so much. Another three week countdown until we’re reunited again and you promised to take me for sushi!!

Apologies everyone else, but here’s a little gallery of gifs for you B, of you and me, to show how much I love you.

In other news, my blog would not be complete without another tale of another Erasmus party. On Friday night I went to Soraya’s for a ‘fiesta’, not realising that it would become a full-blown Erasmus carnival. We had been planning to go out afterwards, but when 4am hit and we hadn’t left yet, my feet were sticking to the floor and Soraya was on FaceTime/in bed, I thought it was time to call it a night.

I could probably name about twenty people I knew at that party, but the flat was rammed from wall-to-wall. It was impossible to move for people squished together, there was a pungent smell of smoke and alcohol in the air, and the floor was so slippery and sticky at the same time, that of course I managed to fall down the stairs as I left. Nobody laugh now.

A special mention has to go to the one and only Martin Carroll, smooth criminal, to whom I promised a dedication. Sorry, I couldn’t gather enough material for a full blog post.

Martin Carroll. Not Ryan Reynolds. I swear.

For those of you who don’t know Martin, he’s not a man of many words. As Soraya pointed out, he speaks when he needs to and not if he doesn’t. Unlike Soraya who is happy to keep talking even if no-one is listening. Actually, that’s just like me as well. I suppose that’s why I have this blog as well, because it just lets me ramble on and on, even if no-one’s reading.

Anyway, back to Martin. Some may say this no talking thing is an awkward trait. Some. But no, in fact, reports confirm this is simply another way of showing just how smooth Martin Carroll really is. From his dance moves to his reputation with the ladies, he is the smoothest criminal I know.

And I really do have to thank him for protecting me and my white top from a possible nightmare spillage situation.

This brings me to the end of another blog post, as always featuring food and fiesta. Hopefully I’ll be back again soon with another update, but since we’re nearing the festive season, I think it’s safe to post a gif dedicated to one of the best Christmas movies of all time, (definitely in the top ten).

KEVIN!